And They Lived
by Phoebonica
Summary: Happily ever after wouldn't last very long... The Baudelaires tell bedtime stories. Has spoilers for The End.


Disclaimer/Author's Note: I do not own ASOUE. This was written as a birthday present for Trish at 667 Dark Avenue.

**And They Lived**

"_The Big Bad Wolf ran away into the darkest depths of the forest, and what became of him then I do not know. And Red Riding Hood and Grandmother and the woodcutter all lived happily ever after. The End_, I'm afraid." Klaus sighed and closed the book. "Sorry, Beatrice. I warned you it wasn't a very interesting book."

"It was a bit more interesting than that textbook about the water cycle," Beatrice said. "But I still can't sleep."

Violet checked her watch, for what Klaus estimated was the fourteenth time that evening. "I don't think any of us are likely to get much sleep tonight," she said. "Not till that pigeon arrives, anyway."

"Maybe not even then," Sunny said, looking over at the two suitcases by the door.

"We should have brought some more of our own books with us," Violet said, coming over to sit down on the arm of Klaus's chair. "That was my fault. I didn't really need to take all that copper wire."

"I don't think we needed all the zucchini, either." Sunny wriggled down under her blanket, and groaned when her feet stuck out at Beatrice's end of the bed. "That's it, I'm putting some socks on. My toes are freezing."

"It's not anyone's fault," Klaus said, as Sunny crawled out of bed and went to retrieve some socks from the case she shared with Violet. "It's just too bad we picked the worst time of year to try to rent a cabin. We were lucky there were any books here at all." He gave a small smile. "We were lucky there was a _ceiling_."

Beatrice yawned, and turned over on the lumpy mattress. Sunny frowned at her. "Hey, don't take my blankets."

"Sorry." She rolled back, looking up at Klaus. "Can you read it again?"

"Do you really want me to?"

"It's better than nothing." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't like it when they end with 'happily ever after', though. Why do people think that's a good ending for a story?"

The three older Baudelaires exchanged glances. Klaus, almost without noticing it, raised a hand to the side of his face. "That's a good point," he said, slowly. "Because it's – simpler, I suppose. The good are rewarded and the bad are punished." _And you always know which is which. No one wants to hear that once upon a time the handsome prince broke the ugly sister's heart, or once upon a time there were children lost in the forest and no birds came to save them, or once upon a time the Big Bad Wolf had other qualities (like courage and tenderness and a knowledge of poetry) or once upon a time the wicked stepmother had children of her own. People want to know who to cheer for._

"I never used to like it either," Violet said. "It gave me the creeps. I imagined everyone walking around like this." She demonstrated a wide, vacant grin. "Like – those heart shaped balloons, but with bodies."

Beatrice frowned, shifting to one side as Sunny climbed back into bed. "I just think it sounds like they couldn't have lived very _long_."

"I guess some people just aren't as lucky as us," Sunny said.

Everyone laughed, even Beatrice.

"Except the wolf," Violet said. "I wonder what did happen to him?"

"In some versions the woodcutter kills him with his axe," Klaus said, "and in the earliest versions Red Riding Hood gets eaten. There's no one real answer."

"He ran off to the city," Beatrice said, thoughtfully. "And decided to pursue his long-held interest in architecture. A dream he'd abandoned years before, because people laughed at his attempts to hold a drafting pencil in his paws. That's what triggered his descent into villainy and eating people."

Sunny giggled. "And cross dressing."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Violet said. "And he must have been good at it. Or Red Riding Hood must have been especially dim-witted not to know that he wasn't her grandmother. Or both."

"_Or_," Sunny said, "the grandmother was half wolf herself. In her youth she was known as Chabo the Wolf Girl, and she toured the country with a travelling freak show, until one day she met a handsome young movie producer with suspiciously long, pointy teeth."

"And one eyebrow," Klaus added. "The other one was blown off in an accident with an exploding film canister. At least, everyone assumed it was an accident."

"So Red Riding Hood was one-eighth wolf?" Beatrice asked.

Violet shook her head. "Actually, no one's really sure. She was adopted, you see. Her mother found her in the forest one day, dangling from a balloon. But that's another story…"


End file.
